Just One Night? Read online

  MIDWIVES ON-CALL

  Welcome to Melbourne Victoria Hospital—and to the exceptional midwives who make up the Melbourne Maternity Unit!

  These midwives in a million work miracles on a daily basis, delivering tiny bundles of joy into the arms of their brand-new mums!

  Amidst the drama and emotion of babies arriving at all hours of the day and night, when the shifts are over, somehow there’s still time for some sizzling out-of-hours romance …

  Whilst these caring professionals might come face-to-face with a whole lot of love in their line of work, now it’s their turn to find a happy-ever-after of their own!

  Midwives On-Call

  Midwives, mothers and babies—lives changing for ever …!

  Dear Reader,

  I was thrilled to be a part of the Midwives On-Call series, and to work alongside some of my favourite authors.

  We all have secrets, or sides to ourselves that we might not reveal, and that really is the case with my heroine, Isla—she is outwardly strong, with a demanding job and an exciting social life, but there is a side to her that she lets no one see. I knew it would take a very special hero to discover the real Isla, behind the rather glamorous façade. Alessi is all that and more.

  I hope you enjoy Isla and Alessi’s story.

  Happy reading!

  Carol x

  CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked: ‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

  Just One Night?

  Carol Marinelli

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Dear Reader

  About the Author

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  ‘ISLA …’ THE PANIC and fear was evident in Cathy’s voice. ‘What are all those alarms?’

  ‘They’re truly nothing to worry about,’ Isla said, glancing over to the anaesthetist and pleased to see that he was changing the alarm settings so as to cause minimal distress to Cathy.

  ‘Was it about the baby?’

  Isla shook her head. ‘It was just letting the anaesthetist know that your blood pressure is a little bit low but we expect that when you’ve been given an epidural.’ Isla sat on a stool at the head of the theatre table and did her best to reassure a very anxious Cathy as her husband, Dan, got changed to come into Theatre and be there for his wife.

  ‘It’s not the baby that’s making all the alarms go off?’ Cathy checked again.

  ‘No, everything looks fine with the baby.’

  ‘I’m so scared, Isla.’

  ‘I know that you are,’ Isla said as she stroked Cathy’s cheek. ‘But everything is going perfectly.’

  This Caesarean section had to go perfectly.

  Isla, head nurse at the Melbourne Maternity Unit at the Victoria Hospital, or MMU, as it was more regularly known, had been there for Dan and Cathy during some particularly difficult times. There was little more emotional or more difficult in Isla’s work than delivering a stillborn baby and she had been there twice for Cathy and Dan at such a time. As hard as it was, there was a certain privilege to being there, too—making a gut-wrenching time somehow beautiful, making the birth and the limited time with their baby poignant in a way that the family might only appreciate later.

  Cathy and Dan’s journey to parenthood had been hellish. They had undergone several rounds of IVF, had suffered through four miscarriages and there had been two stillbirths which Isla had delivered.

  Now, late afternoon on Valentine’s Day, their desperately wanted baby was about to be born.

  Cathy had initially been booked in next Thursday for a planned Caesarean section at thirty-seven weeks gestation. However, she had rung the MMU two hours ago to say that she thought she was going into labour and had been told to come straight in.

  Cathy had delivered her other babies naturally. Even though the labours had often been long and difficult with a stillborn, it was considered better for the mother to deliver that way.

  As head of midwifery, Isla’s job was supposedly nine to five, only she had long since found out that babies ran to their own schedules.

  This evening she’d had a budget meeting scheduled which, on the news of Cathy’s arrival, Isla had excused herself from. As well as that, she’d had drinks scheduled at the Rooftop Garden Bar to welcome Alessandro Manos, a neonatologist who was due to start at the Victoria on Monday.

  For now it could all simply wait.

  There was no way that Isla would miss this birth.

  At twenty-eight years of age Isla was young for such a senior position and a lot of people had at first assumed that Isla had got the job simply because her father, Charles Delamere, was the CEO of the Victoria.

  They’d soon found out otherwise.

  Yes, outside the hospital Isla and her sister Isabel, the obstetrician who was operating on Cathy this evening, were very well known thanks to their prominent family. Glamorous, gorgeous and blonde, the press followed the sisters’ busy lives with interest. There were many functions they were expected to attend and the two women shared a luxurious penthouse and dressed in the latest designer clothes and regularly stepped onto the red carpet.

  That was all work to Isla.

  The MMU was her passion, though—here she was herself.

  She sat now dressed in scrubs, her long blonde hair tucked beneath a pink theatre cap, her full lips hidden behind a mask, and no one cared in the theatre that she was Isla Delamere, Melbourne socialite, apparently dating Rupert, whom she had gone to school with and who was now a famous Hollywood actor.

  To everyone here she was simply Isla—strict, fair and loyal. She expected the same focus and attention from her staff that she gave to the patients, and she generally got it. Some thought her cool and aloof but the mothers generally seemed to appreciate her calm professionalism.

  ‘Here’s Dan.’ Isla smiled as Dan nervously made his way over. He really was an amazing man and had been an incredible support to his wife through the dark times. His tears had been shed in private, he had told Isla, well away from his shocked wife. Many had said he should share the depths of his grief with Cathy but Isla understood why he chose not to.

  Sometimes staying strong meant holding back.

  ‘Dan, I’m sure that something is wrong …’ Cathy said.

  Dan glanced over at Isla, who gave him a small, reassuring shake of the head as her eyes told him that everything was fine.

  ‘Everything is going well, Cathy,’ Dan said. ‘You’re doing an amazing job, so just try and relax …’

  ‘I can feel something,’ Cathy said in a panicked voice, and Isla stepped in.

  ‘Do you remember tha
t I said you would feel some tugging?’ Isla reminded her.

  ‘Cathy!’ Isabel’s voice alerted Isla. ‘Your baby is nearly out—look up at the screen …’

  Isla looked up to the green sheets that had been placed so that Cathy could not see the surgery going on on the other side. ‘Your baby is out,’ Isabel said, ‘and looks amazing …’

  ‘There’s no crying,’ Cathy said.

  ‘Just wait, Cathy,’ Dan said, his voice reassuring his wife, though the poor man must be terrified.

  Even Isla, who was very used to the frequent delay between birth and tears, found that she was holding her breath, though Cathy could never have guessed her midwife’s nerves—Isla hid her emotions extremely well.

  And not just from the staff and patients.

  ‘Cathy!’ Isla said. ‘Look!’

  There he was.

  Isabel was holding up a beautiful baby boy with a mass of dark, spiky hair. His mouth opened wide and he let out the most ear-piercing scream, absolutely furious to be woken from a lovely sleep, to be born, of all things!

  ‘He’s beautiful,’ Dan said. ‘Cathy, look how beautiful he is. You did so well, I’m so proud of you.’

  The baby was whisked away for a brief check and Isla made her way over as Isabel continued with the surgery.

  He really was perfect.

  Four weeks early, he was still a nice size and very alert. The paediatrician was happy with him and the theatre midwife wrapped him in a pale cream blanket and popped on a small hat. He would be more thoroughly checked later but that visit to the parents, if well enough, came first.

  Isla took the little baby, all warm and crying, into her arms and she felt a huge gush of emotion. She had known that this birth would be emotional, but the feeling of finally being able to hand this gorgeous couple a healthy baby was a special moment indeed.

  She held the baby so that Cathy could turn her head and give him a kiss and then Isla placed him on Cathy’s chest as Dan put his arms around his little family.

  Isla said nothing. They deserved this time to themselves and she did all she could to make this time as private as a theatre could allow it to be. She stood watching as they met their son. Dan properly broke down and cried in front of his wife for the first time.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m finally a mum …’ Cathy said, and then her eyes lifted and met Isla’s. ‘I mean …’

  When Isla spoke, she was well aware of the conflicting feelings that Cathy might have.

  ‘You’ve been a mum for a very long time,’ Isla said, gently referring to their difficult journey. ‘Now you get the reward.’

  Isla’s time with Cathy and Dan didn’t finish there, though. After Cathy had been sutured and Recovery was happy with her status, Isla saw them back to the ward. Cathy simply could not stop looking at her baby and Dan was immensely proud of both his wife and son.

  They had made it to parenthood.

  Before Cathy was discharged Isla would have a long talk with her. Often with long-awaited babies depression followed. It was a very confusing time for the new mother—often she felt guilty as everyone around her was telling her how happy she must be, how perfect things were. In fact, exhaustion, grief over previous pregnancies, failure to live up to the standards they had set themselves could cause a crushing depression in the postnatal period. Isla would speak with both Dan and Cathy about it before the family went home.

  But not tonight.

  For now it really was about celebrating this wonderful new life.

  ‘I’m going to have a glass of champagne for you tonight,’ Isla said as she left them to enjoy this special time.

  She said goodbye to the staff on the ward then headed around to the changing room.

  She’d forgotten her dress, Isla realised as soon as she opened her locker. She could picture it hanging on her bedroom door and hadn’t remembered to grab it when she’d dashed for work that morning.

  She glanced at the time and realised she would be horribly late if she went home to change. She knew that she really ought to go straight there as there weren’t many people able to make it, given that it was Valentine’s Day. Alessandro had apparently been doing a run of nights in his previous job and had booked to go away for the weekend with his girlfriend before he started his new role.

  Isla rummaged through her locker to see if there was an outfit that she could somehow cobble together. She didn’t have much luck! There was a pair of denim shorts that she had intended to wear with runners. Isla had actually meant to start walking during her lunch break but, of course, it had never happened. She could hardly turn up at the Rooftop Bar in shorts and the skimpy T-shirt and runners that she had in her locker, but then she saw a pair of cream wedged espadrilles that she had lent to a colleague and which had been returned.

  Isla tried it all on but the sandals pushed her outfit from far too casual to far too tarty.

  Oh, well, it would have to do. She was more than used to turning heads. She didn’t even question if there was a dress code that needed to be adhered to. Isla didn’t have to worry about such things—it was one of the perks of being a Delamere girl. You were welcome everywhere and dress codes simply didn’t apply.

  She ran a comb through her long blonde hair and added a quick dash of lip gloss and some blusher before racing out of the maternity unit and hailing a taxi. As she sat in the back seat she realised that she was slightly out of breath—she hadn’t yet come down from the wonderful birth she had just witnessed.

  Elated.

  That was how she felt as she climbed the stairs and then stepped into the Rooftop Bar.

  And that was how she looked when Alessi first saw her. Tall, blonde and with endless brown legs, she walked into the bar with absolute confidence. She looked vaguely familiar, he thought, though he couldn’t place her. At first he didn’t even know if she was a part of the small party that was gathered.

  He knew, though, that, whoever she was, he would be making an effort to speak with her tonight. He watched as she gave a small wave and made her way over and he found out her name as the group greeted her.

  ‘Isla!’

  So this was Isla.

  Alessi knew who she was then. Not just that she was head midwife at The Victoria. Not just that she must be Charles Delamere’s younger daughter, which would explain why she was in such a high-up role at such a young age. No, it was more than that. Though he could not remember her from all those years ago, he knew the name—they had attended the same school.

  ‘I’m sorry that I’m so late.’ Isla smiled.

  ‘How did it go?’ Emily, one of the midwives, asked, referring to Cathy’s delivery.

  ‘It was completely amazing,’ Isla said. ‘I’m so lucky to have been there.’

  ‘And I’m so jealous that you were!’ Emily teased, and then made the introductions. ‘Isla, this is Alessandro Manos, the new neonatologist.’

  Isla only properly saw him then and as she turned her slight breathlessness increased.

  He was seriously gorgeous with black, tousled curly hair and he was very unshaven. The moment she first met his black eyes all Isla could think was that she wished Rupert were here tonight.

  Isla and Rupert were seemingly the golden couple. They had been together since school, where Isla had been head girl and Rupert had been head of the debating team. One night they had gone to a party and it had been there, after a very awkward kiss, that Rupert had confessed to her that he was gay.

  Rupert had no idea how his parents would take the news and he was also upset at some of the rumours that were going around the school.

  Isla had covered for him then and she still did to this very day.

  Rupert’s career had progressed over the years and his agent had strongly advised him that the roles that were being offered would be far harder to come by if the world knew the truth. He was nothing more than a wonderful friend who, in recent years, had questioned why Isla chose to keep up the ruse that they were going out.

  It suited
Isla, too.

  Despite her apparent confidence, despite her ease in social situations, despite the questions raised by magazines about her morals, because she put up with Rupert’s supposed unfaithfulness after all, no one had ever come close to the truth—Isla was a virgin.

  Her entire sexual history could be written on the back of a postage stamp. She’d had one schoolgirl kiss with Rupert that hadn’t gone well at all. Now she’d had several more practised kisses with Rupert but they had been for appearances’ sake only.

  Often Isla felt a complete fraud when she spoke with women about birth control and pelvic floor exercises, or offered advice about lovemaking during and after pregnancy, when she had never even come close to making love with anyone herself.

  Yes, how she would have loved Rupert to be here tonight, to hold her friend’s hand and to lean just a little on him as the introductions were made and she stared into the black eyes of a man who actually had the usually very cool Isla feeling just a little bit dizzy.

  ‘Call me Alessi,’ he said.

  ‘Sorry, Alessi, I keep forgetting,’ Emily said. ‘Isla is Head of Midwifery at MMU.’

  ‘It is very nice to meet you,’ Alessi said. He held out his hand and Isla offered hers and gave him a smile. His hand was warm as it briefly closed around the ends of her fingers and so, too, were Isla’s cheeks. ‘Can I get you a drink?’ he offered.

  ‘No, thanks.’ Isla was about to say that she would get this round but for some reason, even as she shook her head, she changed her mind. ‘Actually, yes, please, I’d love a drink. I just promised Cathy, my patient, that I was going to have a glass of champagne for her tonight.’

  Alessi headed off to the bar and Emily took the opportunity to have a quick word. ‘Isla, thank you for getting here, I know you were held back, but I’m really going to have to get home.’

  ‘Of course,’ Isla said. ‘I know how hard it is for you to get away and I really appreciate you coming out tonight. The numbers were just so low I didn’t want Alessandro, I mean Alessi, to think that nobody could be bothered to greet him. Go home to your babies.’